Butterfly Cauldron
Thursday, November 29, 2007
There is no life on Mars
I doubt anyone actually reads this thing anymore, but anyway....the following post will be rantish, whiny and totally self-centered. You've been warned.
First, I have PMS and (maybe) the flu. I do not feel good in any way. I'm tired, I have a fever, I have a headache and I just want to cry. My mother and SiL will be arriving tomorrow evening to spend the night and go shopping Saturday. I have zero money for this and I'm going to ask them for gas money. I don't usually do that, but if I don't, we'll be shopping from the busy isle of my couch. So. I also am going to insist we go to one of the four resturants I have a gift certificate from, otherwise I can't eat. I really wish they would come next weekend, but alas, it is not to be.
I'm really, really cranky. This has to pass, because I have a job interview next week and I need to be sharp. If I get this job, I won't have to move and will be making at least $500 extra a month. That's the base pay and I intend to ask for more than that. I've got a masters degree and eight years of relevant experience. Dammit, I wanna get paid.
I'm feeling very down on my romantic prospects again. Brought on by general blahness and a thread on a mailing list I'm on. I am not a conventionally attractive woman. That's fine, really, but now I'm starting to think I may very well end up spending all my time alone. Now, normally that doesn't disturb me too much, so may this is just the hormones and flu talking, but it all makes me want to curl up in my bed and hide forever.
(FYI -- when you have a fever and you cry, your tears feel like they've been boiled. Did you know that?)
I feel tragically boring. Like there isn't a single thing about me that's interesting or unique. I'm just kinda....blah. I don't have any stores of knowledge I can break out to impress people. I don't have any outstanding talent. I'm not musical or dramatic or....I don't know. I'm not even particularly domestic. I'm just....boring.
I'm 33 years old, I have four cats, no real relationships and a chronic illness. Please god, don't let this be the flu. I don't have a rheumatologist in town and it takes about two months to get an appointment with one as a new patient.
First, I have PMS and (maybe) the flu. I do not feel good in any way. I'm tired, I have a fever, I have a headache and I just want to cry. My mother and SiL will be arriving tomorrow evening to spend the night and go shopping Saturday. I have zero money for this and I'm going to ask them for gas money. I don't usually do that, but if I don't, we'll be shopping from the busy isle of my couch. So. I also am going to insist we go to one of the four resturants I have a gift certificate from, otherwise I can't eat. I really wish they would come next weekend, but alas, it is not to be.
I'm really, really cranky. This has to pass, because I have a job interview next week and I need to be sharp. If I get this job, I won't have to move and will be making at least $500 extra a month. That's the base pay and I intend to ask for more than that. I've got a masters degree and eight years of relevant experience. Dammit, I wanna get paid.
I'm feeling very down on my romantic prospects again. Brought on by general blahness and a thread on a mailing list I'm on. I am not a conventionally attractive woman. That's fine, really, but now I'm starting to think I may very well end up spending all my time alone. Now, normally that doesn't disturb me too much, so may this is just the hormones and flu talking, but it all makes me want to curl up in my bed and hide forever.
(FYI -- when you have a fever and you cry, your tears feel like they've been boiled. Did you know that?)
I feel tragically boring. Like there isn't a single thing about me that's interesting or unique. I'm just kinda....blah. I don't have any stores of knowledge I can break out to impress people. I don't have any outstanding talent. I'm not musical or dramatic or....I don't know. I'm not even particularly domestic. I'm just....boring.
I'm 33 years old, I have four cats, no real relationships and a chronic illness. Please god, don't let this be the flu. I don't have a rheumatologist in town and it takes about two months to get an appointment with one as a new patient.
Labels: depression, Lupus, sadness
12 Comments:
You don't seem boring to me. Aren't you doing Nanowrimo? That's interesting. What are you writing about?
I am *terribly* interesting but as a pre-op trans woman am generally considered completely undateable. So, you know, being interesting and unique is over-rated when it comes to pulling.
Good luck with the job interview next week! xx
Why would that make you undatable, Emily? Interesting and adorable would seem far more important to me. And I'm writing about pirates, slavers and dragons...it's kinda fun....then in the middle of that, I got sick and then had a different story pop into my head and demand I work on it....I'm so very over Mused it's not funny.
You are very sweet and yes, terribly interesting! I'm feeling better after lots of sleep and medication. Plus I had a purring gray kitten sleeping against my chest all night because she knew her Mommy needed cuddles. Was very nice.
Well it's been hard to find someone who both finds me attractive and respects my identity. A girl who often reads male, with male genitals, is either a fetish, a freak or pitiable but invisible. I am embarrassed how long it's been since I've been with someone..
Your book sounds good. Fantasy must be hard to write, you have to create a whole world in your head, and avoid being fifth-generation Tolkien pastiche. What's this other work then demanding your attention then?
I do think that overmused is *always* preferable. Nothing worse than not being into your own work.. Unless there's a looming deadline, I almost always go with whatever idea's exciting me most :)
Hmp. It's the people who turn you down who should be embarassed, dear. Silly people!
I can't seem to write anything BUT fantasy. It just sorta seeps outta me. The other story that grabbed me is funny, really. It's an alternate reality modern day sorta thing, about a woman who talks to ghosts/sees the future. It's set in Louisiana (cause that's where I am!) and in the first book she ends up trying to figure out who killed the local preacher (after she publically cursed him), has to tame a teenage love spell gone wrooooong and shoots a new werewolf when he goes skulking around her farm at night -- then has to take him in and keep him from dying because she was using blessed ammo.
She popped in my head and said "Hey, my name is Billie Lee Harper and you really need to start taking notes...." Oy.
Zan, you're funny as hell, and that's a LOT. You know what's going on in the world and you have fire. Apparently, this fire has spread to your head; too bad boiling tears can't be recycled. I've cried hot tears, but that was from being so worked up while crying.
Also, we can count on you. I'm writing about pirates, slavers and dragons[.] Of course! I expect nothing less.
The *first* book? That is a demanding character! Sounds really cool though :)
The only way it could be better would be if there was an extended section in which a robot breakdances. And now you know why I don't write prose ;)
If you think I can't fit in a section of robot breakdancing you vastly underestimate me :)
Oh don't let me rubbish up your book! Otherwise it will end up being all robots, sassy talking kitchen appliances and a squirrel sidekick that says "boo-yah" in a post-ironic fashion.
Zan, you're in Louisiana? What part? I'm here too!! You're a Louisianian lupie, for goodness' sake! How much more blessed do you want to be, missy?!! ;)
I'm flaring up right now too. I had been doing really well with NaBloPoMo--I couldn't even dream of attempting NaNoWriMo--and then I started flaring and I've been sleeping over fifteen hours a day for the past week or so.
Aren't kittehs the bestest solution to banging out the doldrums? Just yesterday, my tabby decided that we'd pissed her off in some way so, to voice her displeasure, she went and took a poop directly in front of her litter box. :(
Queen Emily,
I don't see your pre-op state as making you undateable. You looked so-oo-oo damned hot in that picture I saw! That coy look on your face was absolutely yummy, actually. *sigh* Why did I find all of the beautiful girls AFTER I found my sweet boy?
That's how I feel when I cry with a fever. And I *always* want to cry when I have a fever, damn it!
I hope you're feeling lots better. I see from your sidebar that you and I have similar spiritual paths in common--ex-fundamentalist Christian and current Pagan!
Poor baby, nothing is worse than PMS and well...anything. It sucks being sick, feeling rotten, depressed, unloved, unlovable, un-everything.
You need: a hot bath, a warm pair of jammies, nice bowl of chicken soup or your favorite version of comfort food and soft, furry blanket. Mostly you need someone to pet you, say it'll be all better and you're special and not a big baby at all.
Or at least, that works for me. Ok, that and a shot in the ass.
Hope you're feeling better.
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